Reticent (h.s fanfic, punk Harry)

Chapter 31

So before I start this chapter I wanna say that Hopeful_Styles_1D just posted a book called Masked Hearts. It's honestly amazing! Please check it out. I love it so far and I'm sure you also will!

OPHELIA

Louis intervened. He didn't look happy, or sad really. Just emotionless, and I was worried that now he hated me once more, and I was tired of being his target. But through the nervous fidgeting I watched his mouth open to start his sentence.

"Hey, Ophelia," he certainly didn't sound angry at me. I could take that as hope that he wouldn't fall back into his ways of belittling me in the crowd.

"Hey, Louis," I started to sit up, my hand drifting away from the butterfly breathing on Harry's chest. His shirt laid open, reminding me of the intimate thoughts he'd let me hear.

"Um, your dad showed up," he explained with a grim expression, and I thought if not me, then who was he angry at? "I let him stay in the er... kitchen. So," he puffed out his cheeks, then blew out the air. "He's waiting for you to come."

I nodded, speaking seemed too much after the morning wake. Louis looked at us once more then disappeared through the door.

Harry started to sit up as well, and his hands went naturally to his shirt to button it up. We sat there afterwards, just watching the world unravel around us, watched the sun kiss every inch of earth as it rose proud on the top of the sky, looking down like a guardian angel.

My eyes went to Harry to see that he had already been staring at me. Something came to mind. "Why did you tell me all of that earlier?" My lower lip came between my teeth for them to nibble on the dead skin. "I thought- I mean that meant a lot to you and you said it so easily."

"Easily? Define that word," he frowned at me.

"I didn't mean it that wa-"

"You think I bring everyone here and tell them about my dying mom?" He spat out.

I thought we were fine, and I suppose we were, but I'd ruined it. Like I ruin everything. My head lowered, my eyes fixing on a crack. I hadn't meant it in that way. "Harry, I didn't mean it that way. You should understand that." I continued to plead as he stood up, walking to the door. "I was just wondering how long you'd been holding it in that it all came. How long were you waiting to pour it out?"

He stopped and for a moment I thought he'd look back. Like those moments in those cliche movies where the boy stops, then turns to say something a little too heartbreaking. But when Harry stopped he didn't turn around, he simply stood, waited for God knows what, then continued to walk inside.

"That went well. Great talk after a kiss, Ophelia," I rolled my eyes.

In the house, Cameron was situated on the couch, looking through a book while Louis ate cereal. Harry and his mother and Louis' mother were all absent. That made this a whole lot easier for me. "Hey, dad."

His head came up. His lips turned up for a smile. "Hey, you're alive."

"I'm alive," I chuckled.

"About the stolen car," he started off, placing the book on the table in front of him. "How did it get stolen?"

"I left it on outside. With the keys and all. Kind of my fault-"